Breakaway (Beyond the Play, #2)(56)

I can see Dad at the other end of the hallway, talking to his coaching staff, so I tug on Cooper’s sleeve. I’m sure that he noticed me at the game, but I’ll just text him congratulations later; I don’t want to get drawn into a conversation with him right now. Not to mention that he’d flip if he smelled the alcohol on my breath. “Let’s head out.”

Since everyone is a little sloshed already, we just start walking toward downtown. The cold stings less with whiskey in my belly, but I still stick close to Cooper. He’s like a furnace, and it’s magical. He took my hand the moment we left the building, and I know I should pull away—more accurately, I should ask if we can talk—but it’s too nice to steal the warmth radiating from him to want to ruin it out here in the cold. The group, Victoria and Aaron, Dani and Will and Allison, Izzy and Mia, Sebastian, Rafael, and Hunter, and Evan and Jean too, breaks away from us as we turn onto Main Street. I realize this is by design the moment Cooper pulls me behind a bush and kisses me hard on the lips.

Sneaky bastard.

I wrap my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes for better leverage as I kiss back. It’s automatic, as natural as breathing. We make out for what must be five minutes at least, his hands underneath my sweater all the while. I shiver, but not from the cold; his fingertips feel like little candle flames. When he eventually steps back, it’s a reluctant unwinding, pulling out one hand and then the other, licking into my mouth one more time before taking a breath.

“Cooper,” I say. My voice feels thick. I’m nowhere near drunk, but for a moment I wish I was. Drunk me would forget what she needs to do. “You made captain.”

“All thanks to you, Red,” he says.

Fuck, his voice sounds tender. I shake my head. “No. This was all you. You’re so fucking talented, you would have gone first round in the draft if you’d entered.”

That makes his mouth twist. “Doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is now.”

“Yes,” I say, seizing upon that like a life raft in shark-infested waters. Only the sharks aren’t sharks, they’re feelings, and I really, really don’t want to be devoured by them. Not when I know the way out, in the end, is filled with pain. “You got what you wanted. We don’t… have to continue doing this. Don’t feel obligated when I’m sure there are like, half a dozen girls at Red’s right now, just waiting for you to come in.”

He’s quiet so long I almost repeat myself, but then he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and looks at the frosted-over ground.

“Is that what you want?”





33





PENNY





I stare at him for a long, frozen moment.

Yes.

No.

No, it’s not what I want, but I can’t fall for him, and he can’t fall for me, and somewhere in between banter about books and stupid texting conversations and gummy bears and sex so good I cry, I think that’s what might be happening, and if I give in and the whole thing shatters, if my life shatters for a third fucking time—

“Yes,” I manage to say, even though my chest is aching like someone just struck it with an anvil. “It’s what I want.”

“But we didn’t finish your list.”

“It’s… it’s fine. It’s whatever.”

“Bullshit,” he says, his gaze searching mine. He swipes his hand through his damp hair. “Penny, why are you lying? What happened?”

I open my mouth—to say what, I don’t know—but before I can muddle through my thoughts, a plaintive little meow breaks the silence.

“Was that a cat?” he says, looking around.

I drop to my knees, wiping furtively at my cheeks to get rid of the stubborn tears, and peer underneath the bush. “Oh my God, there’s a kitten.”

Cooper gets to his knees too, putting his hand on my arm to stop me from reaching into the bush. “Wait, it might bite. Let me do it.”

He carefully pokes around the underside of the bush. There’s another meow, louder this time, and then he pulls out a skinny orange cat with big, amber-colored eyes. I’m not sure how old it is, but if I had to guess, only a couple of months. It hisses, showing Cooper its teeth. I reach out for it, and Cooper gingerly deposits it in my arms. It curls up in the crook of my elbow, giving him a look that clearly says it thinks I’m the superior option here.

“Does it know I’ve never interacted with a cat before?” Cooper says.

“Never?”

“Never. Be careful, it could have rabies.”

“I doubt it.” I stroke my finger between its ears, and it meows again, sounding a lot less annoyed. It must have been freezing underneath that bush. “I wonder what it’s doing here, it’s cold.”

“There’s no tag?”

“Nothing.”

“Weird,” he says, brushing his hands on his knees before straightening up. “Should we like… bring it to the firehouse or something?”

I raise an eyebrow as I stand. “Isn’t that for babies?”

“Probably.” He eyes the thing like he expects it to start howling like a banshee. “Be careful, Pen. It could hurt you.”

I laugh. “Cooper, it’s a three-pound kitten. Hardly threatening.”